Blood Tastes Like Metal
by ganja-chan
Summary: R&J the drama, If Sophie could describe what had connected her and that man, she would say it was love...
1. Introduction

**Author's Note: Welllllll, I'd like to honour my favourite Shakespeare character. Who is that - you'll see later though you might know already. I'd say only that the story is based on Romeo and Juliet - the drama, not the movies or the musicals, though they might have some influence on it. So it's the old Verona, old clothes, and young people. The language in which Sophie "thinks" (because the story is told from her POV) is modern, but I still don't know if I'll put old language here (old, but without "thee" and that "-th" stuff, so don't worry).**

Disclaimer: I'm not Shakespeare. I don't own Mercutio though I wish I could :P I don't own Romeo, Benvolio, the Capulets and Motagues too. I own only Sophie. And one more thing - SOPHIE ISN'T ME. Understood? ;P

Rating: somewhere between K+ and T. I'd say T for a bit of bad language (a bit and not really bad) and some blood (like, in the title, there's a word "blood", so let's say it's some, ok?;))

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If I had to name that what connected me with that guy, I would at first say it was love. I repeat, _me with him_, not him with me. I never knew what he really felt to me. He had far too little time to tell me that. And me - immature, stupid girl always dreaming of great love - I wasn't able to read that from his big, green eyes, that closed much too early. For describing them - his eyes - there is a thousand words. And even a thousand times that much for describing the way he impressed me. There is no other man like him - he was absolutely original. That's why I want to tell you that story. Maybe you'll listen to it, maybe not - but now, a year after the events I'm describing, I tell it just because he was such an individual. 

For my green-eyed - _Sophie_

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**A/N: I hope you liked the introduction. Please leave a review **


	2. Strawberries with cream

**Author's Note: OK, I've replaced the old 1st chapter because I decided that the part beginning with "Despite what people say, Bassa-Danza might be..." isn't long enough for a chapter. **

**I think I should tell you about some words used in this chapter, in case you don't know as much as me about Renaissance .**

**- Bassa-Danza - adance in 4/4 (first slow, then gets a bit quicker), often used to begin balls; in French: basse danse (more commonly used); **

**- galliard - a kind of a turn, pirouette :)**

**- chemise - shirt**

**- stockings - yes, the long socks :) Men wore stockings too, not only women**

**Yeah, I'm not a historian, then if you find a mistake then tell me :P And I hope I didn't make much language mistakes... Anyway, let's go on to Mercutio **

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It was an awful ball, me in that heavy and uncomfortable dress, with a fan, around me a lot of foully rich people that I didn't even know by name, and, to make things funnier, my elder brother by my side. It couldn't be worse, I thought, when people were looking at me with anxiety. Me and my brother, we're both red-haired and when we were standing together, we looked like a pair of idiots.

My brother is called Benvolio, he's eighteen and… he's just like other elder brothers. Obviously, if you think only of those who search for husbands for their little sisters with stubborness of a maniac. None of his plans had succeeded so far, just because the men that Benvolio sugessts are not of my type. They are mostly wealthy noblemen, usually ugly and stupid. Usually – because I know some exceptions. Unluckily, Benvolio hasn't tried any of those "exceptions" yet. The problem is that they're his best friends, and elder brothers arent't very keen on making their sisters see their best friends. Besides, all three of them (because Benvolio's got two friends) think I'm still a little girl, though I'm already fourteen. They always go out without me, and at home I'm not allowed to take part in their discussions. Of course sometimes I do talk with them, but then they treat me like a child – „Sophie, bring that, bring this, Sophie, do not put your fingers in the fireplace, Sophie, do not drink that liquid…". They seem to mock at me, really. And the most talented artist of that stage is – obviously – Mercutio.

That man has an immense sense of humour – his talks with people are just ridiculous. Unfortunately, his _laughter_ is also ridiculous. Believe me, you wouldn't like anyone to laugh at you in _that_ manner. To _hear_ him laughing, it's not that bad. But to be the victim of his jokes, that is the worst thing that could ever happen to you. Especially if you're fourteen and nobody takes you seriously, and the jokes regard some… um, spheres of… you know, bed-life (is that a word?).

I came back to the earth when I saw my brother's red hair floating in the crowd. He was talking to somebody, with a big smile spread across his face. I didn't like that smile, not at all! It seemed to announce another idiot that would like to ask for a dance with me, I would say no, and he would go away offended, leaving me alone. The musicians started to play Bassa-danza, so most of the crowd formed a long column of pairs. I finally managed to see who was Benvolio talking with, though I could guess – of course with Romeo and Mercutio. I suppose you know Romeo – that nice boy, always in love with a girl he can't have. You may not remember Mercutio, but I've already told you about him and besides there will be more of this guy as we go on. Anyway, the boys must had been talking about something really funny, because they were giggling uncontrollably all the time. I realized that they might had been talking about me. I prayed for that it wasn't anything stupid, but my prayer wasn't very effective.

They dissappeared in the crowd, covered up withthe pairs crowding up the parquet. At least I saw no more of their jokes about me. I felt an irresistible urge to beat Benvolio in his freckled nose. If I only knew where he was… but I didn't, so my hopes remained undone. Instead, I saw a pair of black shoes that along with thir owner drew in my direction unavoidably. They promised trouble, and somehow I was more than sure that I know who wears shoes like these – black with a green ribbon. Only one person – Mercutio.

I covered my face with my fan and I pretended not to see him. Don't let him laugh at me. Oh, God, please don't let him laugh at me, I'm going to get ashamed… Anyone, but not him! Black boots stopped in front of me. I felt unbelievably small.

„I beg your pardon, signorina", these words sounded stangely spoken by Mercutio, „I would like to have a dance with you, if you please."

I revealed my face and looked at him with pride. But I couldn't resist those eyes. They were too big and too green for even trying to resist. But me, stupid girlie, I tried.

„Are you jesting, signor?", I squeaked in a desperate attempt to save myself from that hopeless situation. Mercutio won't be ashamed even of flirting with me, if he could laugh at it later.

„No", he replied, grabbing my hand and leading onto the parquet, „I am demanding the route…"

Despite what people say, Basse-Danza might be really tiring. Especially if you dance it with a guy like Mercutio – I've never seen such dance figures in an ordinary Bassa-Danza! We bumped onto a column from time to time, yet we were the best pair in the room. After few minuted the centre of the parquet was occuped only by me and Mercutio, and Tybalt of the Capulettis with his girlfriend – he and Mercutio are always at odds with each other and compete at any occasion – sometimes I had a feeling that they want to see who'd throw his girl higher and who'd make a faster galliard. Finally the musicians finished mercifully, because if they played only a minute longer, I would die of exhaustion. In my whole fourteen-year life I hadn't danced so lively.

I went out to the balcony – or rather the terrace, as it was big and spacious, what is perfectlz normal in that house. I haven't mentioned yet that the whole ball is in Mercutio's house, actually – in Prince Escalus' palace, as the Prince is Mercutio's uncle. As you see, I know many famous gentelmen of Verona – it's because I'm of the Montecchi house, I'm Sophie Laura Montecchi, to be exact.

Anyway, I haven't finished about the ball. I stood by the fence and looked at the dark world around me. I heard the music and voices coming from the ballroom, though everything else remained half-silent. Or maybe it was just an impression after coming out of the noisy room, because I heard ringing in my ears.

Mercutio went somewhere to cool down after the dance. I didn't know where, but anyway he passed out of my sight. I hoped though that he really wanted to recover, and not to mock at me with Benvolio and Romeo. If only I mocked at him, he would have a big nice greenish-violet bruise on that pretty face of his…

„Signorina Sophie… Did you know that I have fallen down from up here?"

I looked straight into a pair of jade green eyes and I was completely sure I knew who was that. OH-MY-GOD! Why, why, why does he always appear in the very moment I think of him?

„It must have hurt", I agreed with satisfaction. My voice trembled a little from shock but I was quite happy that even if I didn't hit him, he at least had a close meeting with the ground.

„Not very much. I felt down into the bushes, moreover it is only several feet above the ground, therefore it could not have hurt much"

Oh, obviously. ONLY several feet. If you don't know what you're doing, you can kill yourself falling off a kerb. Apparently he had a reason to jump down from the balcony of ballroom.

„Something chased you, or did you jump yourself?", I asked. The frustration went off and I could now look at the one whom I honoured with a dance… The first thing I noticed, that he was tall and slim.

„I was sitting on the barrier with Benvolio and Romeo. It was an accident", Mercutio changed the tone to more casual and brushed his long brown hair back with nonchalance.

Then we stood silent for a while. I glanced at his clothes, to be sure that I'll remember that evening for a long time. He had expensive, elegant clothes: brown and green long jerkin with white chemise, green cloak, white stockings. Although, he didn't look like a snob – maybe those long hair gave him the charm of a… rioter. Rebelious, just like his name – Mercutio, like mercury… I didn't feel anger any more, not at all. I found some kind of pleasure in just being with each other.

„Would you not go to dance?", Mercutio asked hesitantly, like if his only aim was to break the silence. I heard this tone for the first time. I felt that something was going to happen…

„I do not have a partner", I replied. I didn't want to go to the room, it was so nice on the balcony… I wasn't sure if it was because of Mercutio.

„And I exist no more?", Mercutio snapped with his normal, ringing and provocative tone.

„No… I mean, yes… you do exist", I stutteres. What did the God punish me for that I had to act like some unintelligent being? Mercutio went ahead, still with his… Mercutio-ish tone. Even if it wasn't that of noblemen, it didn't bother. I would be surprised if he started to speak with those flowery words noblemen use.

„I do not mind, stop explaining. I can see that you are deadly tired after only one Bassa-Danza", Mercutio shrugged and I was sure he smiled, „You always do, or just with me?"

„And if I say that always?", I asked agressively. Yes, I was sure that Mercutio made me do that. I was just sure. It was all his fault that I was making myself an idiot.

„I would say that you are weak, oh oh oh, weak… Is that your first ball?"

„It does not matter which, but no one sways like you, that I must catch you by your wrists so then I won't fly away", I snorted, but on my cheeks I felt so hot that I really believed one could fry eggs there, „Could you be more circumspect the next time?", I still don't know where I found the word 'circumspect', but it sounded nice.

„I could. Or maybe not."

„Promise me."

„Oh, Sophie. Swaying with such a lovely and light person like you is what Mercutio likes best!", he laughed. Even in the darkness I could he the giltter in his eyes, „But, I would like to give you something that will easily… recompensate the damage recieved as the effect of swaying.", he imitated the tone of a typical nobleman. I giggled.

„It it is going to be better than dance, then please", I replied, not thinking what his words could mean.

„It is going to be much better than dance."

„Wait… I will guess. Strawberries with cream?"

There was a while of silence. Surely he didn't mean strawberries with cream… Pity.

Just a moment later I realized what I had just said. Damn. What made me ask for strawberries with cream!

„I did not talk about strawberries with cream", Mercutio tried to stay serious and not to giggle, but he wasn't very successful. „But please, do not guess any more… Good Lord, strawberries with cream… It is far better than that…"

And then in one short while he grasped my bottom in one hand, tangled the other in my red hair and sticked his lips to mine.

Oh, God.

A while ago I had kissed a man for the first time and if it had been better than strawberries with cream, then Mercutio had a really crazy system of values. It was horrible… like if something sticked to my lips… BLEH! God, now I will have to marry that crank! On no, please, Mister God Almighty, please, what have I done that you have to punish me so? I am a nice girl! And you gave me that jerk that I don't even fancy! Oh no…

„Then, you like strawberries better?", I heard a whisper.

I opened my eyes. Mercutio was still holding my hips tightly. Just as if I wanted to run away… ha, even if I did, I felt so sick that I couldn't move at all.

„Sophie… I asked whether you like strawberries better", the whisper started to get impatient.

„I… no…", I stuttered. And then a thought crossed my mind, that it wasn't that bad, it could be much worse… and Mercutio wasn't that ugly… he had a pretty smile… and those jade eyes…

„Could we do that once more?"

„Then you liked it?", Mercutio said with pearly laughter, „Be careful, signorina, as I am not in the best condition! I might die in the middle!"

With my insistence we repeated the whole thing when suddenly Romeo walked onto the balcony.

„You want a kiss too?", Mercutio asked as if was perfectly normal for Romeo to want a kiss from him.

„Eeer… no", Romeo replied, a bit confused, „Wait… is this the sister of Benvolio?", he pointed at me, „Benvolio asked whether I could check where you are"

„Tell him that in right hands", Mercutio answered, squeezing me. It smelt like sandalwood… good wine… and most of all, it smelt like sweaty Mercutio. Oh…

That's how it started... it was so funny! Mercutio liked talking to somebody who listened to him. If you didn't pay attention to _what_ he was talking about, you could listen. That guy seemed to like it, and we spent much time together. I think he liked me.

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**So, it's the end of the 1st chapter. I wait for reviews.**


	3. Knight and his lady

**A/N: OK, next chapter, a bit short, but I hope you'll like it... Did I say that those events are some months before the ball where Romeo falls in love with Juliet? Did I? If I didn't, then I've just said it.**

I was lying in the garden of my house. The spring sun made everything warm, and me in a dress without corset and with my hair untied, I enjoyed the first really warm days. Green young leaves (reminding me of Mercutio's eyes), they whispered their fresh and brisk tale, and so did the birds hidden among them… The noises of the city came from behind the stone wall that made a border between this asile and the street. A dog was barking, a merchant was yelling, a teacher was punishing his student and I was lying on the grass and couldn't care less! I felt almost like if I was in paradise – almost, because without my Mercutio. Not that I made him my property, no, but I got used to him. He didn't call me names and tread me like a child. On the contrary, as one of few he appreciated the fact that I was a woman and had full right to marry. I hadn't asked him yet about the marriage, but my parents would be delighted, as Mercutio was rich. Even if he was rich but rebelious, it didn't change the fact that he was related to our prince. Anyway, I had to know him better before I could marry him.  
The so-called "city noises" became slightly louder – someone was shouting near the wall.  
-Nitwit!  
-Idiot!  
-Moron!  
-Mercutio, let us go!  
-Imbecil!  
-Cad!  
-You are cad!  
-Peasant!  
-Ass!  
I approached them to see what was happening. I reecognized two voices: Benvolio (first one), trying to force the furious Mercutio (second one) to stay calm. The third voice belonged to Tybalt Cappulletti, but I realized it was him after I peeked out of the garden and Tybalt turned to faceme. The morning sun didn't repair that mistake of nature that he unfortunately was, he still had those horrible greasy black hair and small piggy eyes.  
-'Tis you girlfriend? – Tybalt spat at Mercutio, pointing at me.  
-Yes and does it concern you? – Mercutio retorted. His hand reached forhis sword.  
-You know who are the women that show themselves in neglige?  
-I am not in neglige! – I revolted. A light dress isn't an underwear yet!  
-Stay silent, Sophie – Benvolio murmured – Mercutio, I beg you!  
-How did you call her, you jerk? – Mercutio raved.  
-Just as you heard!  
Mercutio freed himself from Benvolio's grip and grabbed Tybalt by his collar.  
-You will never call her like that when I, Mercutio, am near – he hissed.  
-I will call her as I, Tybalt, would prefer!  
Ohmymymymymy! Mercutio defends me! Just as the knights in minstrels' songs defended their ladies! My Mercolinny is such a lovely guy and he cares about my honour!  
-In a moment you will have nothing left to even call!  
-So will you!  
-MERCUTIO, MORON! LEAVE HIM ALONE! WE GO! – Benvolio became red on the face (as he always does, just like me) and strongly pulled his friend's cloak, then dragged him into the garden.  
He spoiled all the fun! Thoy could fight for swords, and Mercutio would kill Tybalt, and I would make him my knight and I would give him my sleeve or a lock of hair…  
-Have you grown stupid, good Mercutio? – Benvolio breathed heavily, leaning onto the wall – You know well that you are not allowed to fight in the streets! When your uncle gets to know that, you will have a great punishment…  
-Shut your mouth – Mercutio rubbed his neck in the place where the buckle was pulled – At present that imbecil thinks of us as even worse than him…  
-Oh, you are so clever, mister nobleman… - The gate flew open. Tybalt was standing there with his party. Tybalt was a townsman and that's why he didn't like the nobility. Though I don't know that for sure, because I hate history.  
-Shut your mouth – Mercutio growled.  
-Oh, be careful or your boyfriend will punish you for bad words – Tybalt's friends roared with laughter. I wanted to hit him myself, as I was sure that his words insult Mercutio, but his reaction was quite a surprise.  
Mercutio in the simpliest way in the world approached Tybalt, smiling, and laid his hand on Tybalt's shoulder. After a short while he hit Tybalt in his ugly face so hard that it creaked. Mercutio ran back into the garden and closed the gate.  
-Damned Prince of Cats…

**OK, all for now. I hope to post more, but I've got much schoolwork now (I've got an exam in April) and I just can't promise I'll find anytime to translate the next part.**


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